can u do the crybaby scenario w gachiakuta (preferably w riyo included) ?
𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆!! - 𝗴𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗮𝗸𝘂𝘁𝗮 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 & 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀
⤷ 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀.ᐟ ˎˊ˗ you’ve been really sensitive and emotional ever since you could possibly remember, because of this you could cry over anything. they noticed one day when they accidentally made you cry.
now what will they do with their pretty girl crying?
⤷ 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴.ᐟ ˎˊ˗ riyo ৴ rudo ৴ enjin ৴ tamsy ৴ zanka ৴ corvus ৴ august ৴ gris ৴ follo ৴ fu ৴ zodyl ৴ jabber
you know it, and you’ve accepted it by now.
you cry when things get too loud in your head, when feelings pile up too fast, when words land harder than they should.
you try to laugh it off most days, but your eyes always tell the truth.
it happens during practice. you’re sitting off to the side, knees pulled close, watching riyo like always.
you like being there, cheering quietly in your own way. seeing her run around all fired up makes your heart feel warm.
practice gets messy. riyo messes up a move, trips over her own step, and someone snickers. she clicks her tongue, shoulders tense, energy crackling in a bad way.
then she blurts it out without thinking.
“huh? why’re you even here if you’re just gonna stare like that?”
she says it fast, almost joking, like it’s nothing.
but it isn’t nothing to you.
your chest tightens. you know she didn’t mean it to be mean. you know she’s just frustrated and careless with her words. still, it feels like a tiny crack forms right in your heart.
you try to smile it off. really, you do.
but your eyes start to sting.
you look down, fingers twisting together as tears well up. you sniff, trying to keep it quiet, but your shoulders tremble anyway.
riyo turns around mid-step and freezes when she sees you.
“…wait. huh?” she blinks, then rushes over. “ehhh?? why’re you crying??”
she crouches in front of you, panic mixed with confusion, waving her hands a little. “hey, hey! i was kidding! i didn’t mean it like that at all!”
tears slip down your cheeks, and you shake your head, voice too shaky to explain.
riyo puffs her cheeks, clearly stressed. “nooo, don’t do that…” she leans closer, squinting at your face. “ahh, i totally messed up, didn’t i?”
she gently pokes your forehead, like she always does when she’s trying to cheer you up. “hey, crybaby,” she says softly, not teasing, just familiar. “look at me.”
she grabs the hem of her sleeve and clumsily wipes your tears, way too close to your face. “sorry! i’m bad with words! i didn’t mean ‘go away,’ i meant—uh—i was just mad at myself!”
she gives you a crooked smile, eyes bright but worried. “don’t cry, okay? i like it when you’re here. it makes me feel lucky.”
she stays there, crouched and rambling, until your breathing slows and your tears finally stop.
and even with your eyes still red, you can’t help but smile a little.
it’s been a really long day.
your body feels tired, but your heart feels even more tired. missions always do this to you.
you try to act fine, but you’re a crybaby, and rudo knows that… he just forgets sometimes.
you’re sitting nearby while rudo talks, his arms crossed, voice rough but normal, like he always sounds. he’s not mad. he’s just being honest.
“…you should’ve paid more attention back there,” he says. “you got distracted too easily.”
he doesn’t mean it in a cruel way. to him, it’s just words. just advice.
but to you, it feels heavy.
your chest tightens. your fingers curl into your sleeves. you stare at the floor, trying to breathe, trying not to let it happen. but your eyes start to burn, and your throat feels tight.
rudo notices the silence. he looks at you. “…what?”
you don’t answer. your lips start to shake, and before you can stop it, tears slip down your cheeks.
one turns into two, and then you’re quietly crying, shoulders trembling.
rudo freezes. his eyes widen. “…hey—wait. what? why are you crying?”
you sniffle, wiping your face with your sleeve.
“i… i didn’t mean to mess up…” your voice cracks.
his expression changes instantly. panic flashes across his face.
“…shit. no—i didn’t mean it like that.”
he steps closer, awkward, unsure what to do with his hands. “hey, hey… don’t cry. please don’t cry.”
your tears fall faster now, and that makes him even more flustered. he gently grabs your wrist, not tight, just enough to stop you from hiding your face.
“…i’m sorry,” he says, voice lower, softer than before. “i wasn’t mad at you. i swear. you did fine.”
you look up at him with watery eyes, and his chest tightens. he hates this. hates knowing he caused it.
he sighs and pulls you into a careful hug, stiff at first, then warmer. one hand awkwardly pats your head.
“…you’re really a crybaby,” he mutters quietly, not teasing this time. “but… that’s not a bad thing.”
his grip tightens just a little. “…i’ll be more careful next time. okay?”
and slowly, with his warmth around you and his voice finally gentle, the tears start to calm.
after a long day, everything feels loud even though the room is quiet.
your head hurts, your body aches, and your emotions sit right at the edge, ready to spill.
you’re leaning against the wall, listening to enjin talk while he cleans his umbrella, his movements relaxed like always.
he glances at you and smirks. “you’ve been spacing out all day,” he says lightly, voice playful. “kinda dangerous, don’t you think?”
he laughs a little, expecting you to laugh too.
your fingers twist together. your chest tightens, and your eyes sting before you can stop it.
you try to swallow it down, try to keep your face calm, but your vision blurs anyway.
enjin notices immediately. his smile drops. “…hey?”
you shake your head, but your lips tremble, and the tears fall, quiet and sudden. you turn away, embarrassed.
“…ah—shit,” enjin mutters. the cigarette between his fingers lowers instantly, forgotten. “hey, no, no. that’s not what i meant.”
he steps closer, crouching a little so he’s at your level, voice losing all its teasing edge. “come on… look at me.”
you don’t, but he doesn’t push.
instead, he reaches out slowly, resting his hand on your wrist, warm and gentle.
“i was joking,” he says softly. “i swear. you did good today. really good.”
your shoulders shake as you sniffle. “i… i’m just tired…”
“yeah,” he murmurs. “i can see that.”
he sighs and pulls you into him, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, the other resting on your back.
his chin hovers near your head, careful, like he’s afraid to scare you.
“you don’t have to be strong all the time,” he says quietly. “especially not with me.”
his hand rubs slow circles on your back, steady and grounding. “cry if you need to. i’ve got you.”
tamsy sits nearby, quiet like usual, brushing his long hair before putting it in a bun. his face is calm, almost cold.
“…you hesitated,” he says suddenly. his voice is flat. “that could’ve gotten you hurt.”
the words are sharp. not loud, not angry—but they cut deep.
you freeze. you know he doesn’t always mean to sound cruel.
tamsy talks like this sometimes, blunt and distant, like he’s putting up a wall. but tonight… it hurts more than usual.
you stare at the floor. your hands shake a little. your eyes start to burn, and you try so hard to hold it in, biting your lip.
tamsy notices the silence. he looks up. “…what?”
you don’t answer. tears slip down your cheeks before you can stop them, quiet and embarrassing.
your shoulders tremble as you turn away.
he stands up quickly, steps toward you. “i didn’t mean it like that.”
you sniffle. “you always sound so mean…” your voice cracks. “i try my best…”
something in him breaks. his expression softens instantly, guilt washing over his face. he reaches out, hesitant, then gently pulls you into his arms.
“…i’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice low and sincere. “i act harsh because i’m scared. not because i don’t care.”
his hand comes up to your head, fingers threading carefully through your hair, slow and soothing.
“you did good. you always do. i shouldn’t talk to you like that.”
you cry a little harder at his words, but he holds you tighter, steady and warm.
“…i’ll try to be better,” he murmurs. “especially with you.”
you’re sitting on a bench, legs dangling, trying to catch your breath. zanka leans against the wall nearby, arms crossed, that usual sharp look on his face.
he glances at you and smirks. “wow,” he says dryly. “didn’t think you’d survive that one.”
it’s sarcasm. he says it like a joke. to him, it’s nothing.
but to you, it lands wrong.
you stiffen. your hands curl in your lap. you stare at the ground, pretending it doesn’t hurt, pretending you’re fine. but your eyes start to burn anyway.
zanka notices the silence. he looks over. “…what? i was joking.”
your lips tremble. “you’re always joking like that…” your voice is quiet, shaky.
tears slip out before you can stop them, falling onto your hands.
you try to wipe them away quickly, embarrassed.
zanka freezes. his smirk disappears instantly. “…hey. wait.”
he pushes off the wall and steps closer, awkward, scratching the back of his neck.
“shit… i didn’t mean it like that.”
you sniffle, shoulders shaking. “it just makes me feel stupid…”
his expression softens, guilt flashing across his face. he crouches in front of you so you’re not looking up at him.
“…you’re not stupid,” he says, voice quieter than usual. “you did good. better than most people would’ve.”
he hesitates, then gently pats your head, a little clumsy. “…i use sarcasm too much. i forget not everyone takes it the same way.”
you look at him with watery eyes, and he sighs. “i’m sorry. really.”
he stays there with you, not teasing, not joking, just quietly present until your breathing steadies
you’ve been waiting for hours, sitting on the edge of your bed, thinking about corvus.
he’s always busy, always in his office, always so focused, but tonight it stings more than usual.
you tried not to feel it, tried to busy yourself with small tasks, but every sound of his footsteps passing by your door makes your chest tighten.
the ache builds quietly until it bursts.
tears come slowly at first, a single streak down your cheek, then more, warm and unstoppable.
you cover your face with your hands, trembling.
corvus doesn’t notice at first—he’s buried in papers and files, surrounded by the weight of plans and strategies.
but when he finally steps out to grab a folder and sees you like this, his heart stops.
“…what?” he asks, his voice low, sharp but laced with concern.
you sniffle, not meeting his eyes. “i… i just… you’re always busy…” your voice cracks. “i miss you…”
he freezes, his usual calm, composed posture faltering for the first time. guilt flashes across his face. “…shit,” he mutters, stepping closer.
you try to wipe your tears, embarrassed. “i didn’t mean to… i just—”
he kneels down in front of you, hands on your shoulders, his grip steady and warm. “…hey,” he says softly. “hey, look at me.”
you slowly lift your face to meet his eyes, and for the first time tonight, he lets himself fully soften.
“…i’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice low. “…i didn’t realize… i’ve been… careless with my time with you.”
he pulls you into his arms, careful but protective, letting you rest your head against his chest.
his hands rub slow, soothing circles along your back, grounding you.
“…i’ve been busy,” he admits quietly, “but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter. you… you always matter. to me.”
your tears start to ease, your breathing slowing as he holds you, just like this—present, focused, soft.
“…i’ll try,” he whispers, “…to be better. to be here more. for you.”
he’s at his desk, sketching designs for new uniforms, sleeves rolled up, eyes sharp with focus.
he doesn’t notice how tired you are at first—he’s always like that, so full of energy that it’s impossible to get his attention when he’s in “work mode.”
you try to catch his eye, wait for him to notice you, but he’s completely absorbed.
your chest tightens. every second he’s distracted feels like another reminder that he’s always so… unstoppable.
you let out a small whimper, hiding your face in your hands. your shoulders shake. a single tear slips down, then another, before you can stop it.
august’s pen pauses mid-sketch. he looks up, his brows furrowing immediately.
“…HEYY!! what the hell..?” he blurts, jumping up and rushing to you.
you sniffle, trying to turn away. “…i… i’m just… tired…” your voice cracks, shaky. “…you never… notice me…”
august freezes for half a second, realization hitting him like a wall.
“…WHATTT? no—wait, that’s not…” he stammers, pacing a little. “…i didn’t mean to make you feel like that!”
he crouches down in front of you, hands on your shoulders, his usual loud, energetic presence softened into concern.
“…HEYY, HEY, don’t cry, okay? look at me!”
your tears spill faster, but he doesn’t flinch.
he wipes one from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, careful, almost gentle, which makes your heart ache.
“…you’re amazing,” he says, voice softer than you’ve ever heard, eyes wide and serious. “…i love how much energy you have, how you try so hard… and i don’t want you to feel unnoticed. ever. got it?”
he grabs your hands, pulling you into a tight hug. his warmth is fierce, almost like a shield.
“…i promise,” he says, resting his chin on the top of your head, “…i notice everything about you. and you… you’re my priority, okay?”
you cling to him, feeling his energy wrap around you in a completely different way—protective, caring, and undeniably yours.
“…now,” he says after a moment, standing and tugging you up gently, “enough crying. we’re gonna fix this. i’m taking you out, and you’re gonna feel spoiled tonight. deal?”
you laugh through your tears, nodding
the room is quiet, soft light from the window spilling across the bed.
you’re curled up on it, wrapped in a blanket, feeling worn out and fragile after a long day.
gris sits beside you, always calm, always steady, but tonight he can tell something’s different.
“you’ve been quiet all day,” he murmurs, voice low and steady. he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “what’s wrong?”
you sniffle, trying to hide your tears. “i… i just… miss you,” you whisper. “you’re always so busy, and i… i feel… invisible sometimes…”
his eyes soften immediately, a rare tenderness settling over his features.
he pulls you closer, one arm around your shoulders, the other holding your hand gently. “…hey,” he says softly. “you’re not invisible. not to me.”
you let a few tears slip, leaning against him. he doesn’t pull away.
instead, he tightens his hold just slightly, rubbing slow, comforting circles along your back.
“…i’ve been… distracted,” he admits quietly, voice honest. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t see you. i don’t forget about you. not ever.”
you lift your head to look at him, watery eyes meeting his calm, deep gaze. “…really?”
“really,” he says, brushing your hair back from your cheek. “i’m… thankful for you. for every little thing. for you.”
he shifts slightly, making more room for you to rest fully against him.
“…let me take care of you tonight,” he murmurs. “just you. no missions, no plans, no distractions. okay?”
you nod, tears still slipping but softened by his presence.
you’ve had a long day of missions and training, and your body aches.
follo is sitting across from you, quietly folding some uniforms he’d been organizing.
he’s calm as always, voice soft, but today his words… hit differently.
“…you really need to focus more,” he says, almost absentmindedly, glancing at you. “you can’t keep making little mistakes like that.”
he doesn’t notice the way your chest tightens, the way your hands curl in your lap.
his tone isn’t harsh—it’s calm, measured, but the words feel heavier than anything he’s said before.
you try to nod, trying to brush it off, but your throat tightens. a tear slips out before you can stop it, and then another.
you press your sleeve to your face, shaking slightly.
follo looks up immediately, alarm flashing in his eyes. “…wait—what?”
you sniffle, trying to speak but failing. “i just.. i’m not good enough…” your voice cracks, trembling.
e puts the uniforms aside and moves closer, kneeling in front of you. his hands gently hold your shoulders, thumbs brushing lightly.
“…hey, hey… no, no,” he murmurs. “that’s not what i meant.”
you blink through the tears, looking down. “…but… you said—”
“…i know,” he interrupts softly, voice steady but gentle.
“i was careless with my words. i didn’t mean to… make you feel like that. you’re amazing. you’re capable. you always do your best, and i see it. i promise.”
he leans closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and holding you against him.
“…it’s okay to cry,” he whispers. “i just… i just want you to feel safe, not hurt.”
your tears continue, but now they feel lighter, less like shame and more like relief. his gentle hands rub your back in slow circles, steady and warm.
“…thank you,” you whisper, voice soft.
he smiles slightly, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “…you don’t have to thank me,” he says quietly. “i just… want you to feel cared for. always.”
you’re sitting on the bed, exhausted from a long day, trying to relax.
fu hovers nearby, shuffling nervously, hands twisted together, eyes darting everywhere except at you.
he’s been talking softly, trying to help with small chores, but today… something slips.
“…you shouldn’t be… falling behind,” he murmurs, barely audible, voice trembling just slightly. “it… it’s not good if you can’t… keep up.”
he doesn’t even realize what he’s said out loud. to him, it’s just advice, just a reminder—but to you, it feels sharp.
your chest tightens instantly. your hands curl into the blanket, and your vision blurs.
a sob escapes before you can stop it, and you cover your face, shoulders shaking.
fu freezes, eyes widening.
“…w-wait—no…” his voice is panicked, high and unsure. he takes a step closer, then stops, unsure how to approach. “…i… i didn’t… i didn’t mean to… hurt you?”
you sniffle, voice breaking. “…but you just… said i wasn’t good enough…”
he flinches at the words, hands fidgeting, fingers twisting together nervously.
“…n-no! i… i didn’t mean it like that…” he stammers, stepping closer, careful not to scare you. “…i was just… worried… i didn’t mean to make you feel bad…”
you cry a little harder, ashamed but helpless. fu sits down slowly beside you, leaving a careful space between you, unsure where to put his hands. he finally murmurs,
“…please… don’t cry. i… i didn’t want this…”
he reaches out, resting a trembling hand on your arm.
“…you’re… really… amazing,” he says quietly, voice almost a whisper. “i… i see everything you do… and… i… i care about you… a lot.”
you sniffle again, letting your tears spill, and he leans slightly closer, careful, offering warmth and comfort in his awkward way. “…i… i’ll try… to say better things… i… i just… i care too much to be… mean…”
you walk into zodyl’s office, hoping to see him for a moment after a long day.
he’s at his desk, posture rigid, eyes focused on a map of the city, jaw tight.
“…what do you want?” he says without looking up. his voice is clipped, sharp.
you pause, a little hurt. “…i… just wanted to see you,” you whisper.
he finally looks at you, expression unreadable. “…now isn’t a good time,” he says, tone cold, eyes narrowing. “i have work. go somewhere else.”
the words hit harder than you expect. your chest tightens, your lips tremble. “…oh,” you manage to say, turning away.
your hands curl into the edge of your sleeve, and a tear slips down your cheek. then another.
he glances at you briefly, but his focus snaps back to the map. you try to hold it in, but your shoulders shake, your sobs quiet but unmistakable.
“…wait,” he mutters, finally standing. his usual cold mask falters as he steps closer, voice lower, softer. “…hey. stop.”
you sniffle, embarrassed, trying to hide your face. “…i… i’m sorry…”
he kneels in front of you, one hand resting lightly on your shoulder, thumb brushing your arm.
“…no,” he says, voice quiet but firm. “i was… too harsh.”
“…but you… you didn’t even want me here…” your voice cracks, tears still flowing.
he sighs, finally letting the coldness slip just a little.
“it’s not that i don’t want you,” he says, eyes softer than usual. “…i just… focus too much on work. i forget how much it matters… to you.”
he reaches out, gently tilting your chin so you look at him. “…you’re important. you always are,” he murmurs. “and i don’t want to hurt you. not ever.”
your tears continue, but now they feel lighter. he sits beside you, careful, draping a hand around your shoulders, steadying you. “let me… make it better,” he says quietly. “…just for tonight.”
you’re curled up on your bed, exhausted from a long day.
jabber slips in quietly—well, as quietly as he ever can—leaning against the doorway with that usual grin.
“…hey, sleepyhead,” he says, voice teasing, “you’re looking… kinda useless right now.”
he laughs lightly, thinking it’s a joke. but to you, it feels heavier than he realizes.
your chest tightens, lips trembling, and your hands curl into your blanket.
“…i… i try…” you whisper, voice breaking.
jabber notices the sudden quiet, and his grin falters.
“wait…what?” he asks, stepping closer. he crouches down beside you, eyes scanning your face. “ma? what’s wrong?”
you try to look away, but the tears come fast, warm and uncontrollable, slipping down your cheeks.
“…i’m not good enough…” you murmur, voice shaky, barely audible.
jabber freezes, stunned. his usual teasing energy vanishes, replaced with something soft and raw.
“shit…” he mutters under his breath. “…ma, no, stop crying.”
he kneels closer, carefully brushing a wet strand of hair from your cheek.
“…i wasn’t serious,” he says, voice quieter, calmer. “i didn’t mean it like that. you’re… you’re amazing, okay? you always give your best, and i notice it. all of it.”
he hesitates, then gently cups your face in his hands, thumbs brushing along your cheeks to wipe away the tears.
“…my sexy mamas you’re perfect,” he murmurs softly. “and don’t you ever forget it.”
you hiccup, still trembling, but he pulls you into his chest, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other holding your hand.
he hums softly, a low, soothing sound, letting you lean into him, letting you feel safe.
“…see?” he whispers, lips brushing the top of your head. “…i’ve got you. no one’s gonna make you feel small. not today… not ever.”
「©valentinesxoxo˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ 」
